Ensign T’Fearne: Meet the New Chief...
Teayl Thorn
((Medusa, Argo-Class Shuttle, Somewhere in the Skelter Mountain Range, Proxima Sigma IV))
She clung to the sheer cliff face, fingers numb, hybrid heart hammering in her chest. The wind in the canyon howled and pulled at her like an angry ghost, and the shuttle’s engines roared beneath her, kicking up dust and cliff-side debris. A voice echoed up from the open cargo hatch, unfamiliar but urgent.
She risked a glance over her shoulder and down.
A figure stood framed on the ramp of the Medusa, she met the eyes of a Starfleet Lieutenant in gold of security or engineering, hard to say. Not someone she recognized from the Ronin. But he was clearly an officer. She strained her pointed ears to hear what he was saying over the thrum of the engines.
Kessler: ::yelling louder:: JUMP!!!
T’Fearne: :: Yelling over her shoulder:: Jump? Why? Can’t you use the transporter?
Kessler: Emergency recovery protocols Ensign. JUMP!!!
She felt a spike of fear rush through her as her heart rate sped up. A tremor shook her weary legs.
T’Fearne: :: shaking her head:: I—I can’t! It’s too far! oO I’m too tired Oo
Kessler: ::leaning as far out as he could and tapping his combadge:: Michele, you're clear back another meter, then hold. ::looking to T'Fearne:: JUMP Ensign, that's an order.
The Medusa’s maneuvering jets flared and the ramp crept closer to the cliff-side.
T'Fearne: :: voice tight :: Yes, sir!
oO Definitely Security if he’s ordering me to jump off a cliff. Oo
A spike of annoyance at being ordered to perform by a stranger, but she controlled it, redirected it, let it burn like fuel as she gripped the cliff face. No more thinking, she let her body’s survival instinct take over.
She kicked off the wall into open air.
Gravity swiftly claimed its hold and she twisted mid-flight like a Betazoid, angling so that her feet were underneath, the ramp shuttle rushing up…As it was, she almost clipped the top of the shuttle’s roof edge on the way down. She landed heavily on the ramp with a CLANG. Her left leg buckled and she would have lost balance if a hand hadn't grabbed her arm. T’Fearne locked forearms with the strange lieutenant.
With their arms touching, T'Fearne’s Vulcazoid senses flared, emotions from the lieutenant hitting her in a sudden, unfiltered rush. It caught her off guard and she inhaled sharply. There was something like sympathy there, relief, and a sharp focus that told her for some reason this officer's attention was on her.
Without missing a beat, he pulled her fully inside, still gripping her arm as the ramp sealed behind them.
Then, to her mild disbelief, he grinned.
She was about to demand some answers, but he beat her to it.
Kessler: Lieutenant Jack Kessler, your new Chief. That was a nice jump Ensign. If we were on the training course at Yosemite I'd give you high marks.
She straightened, releasing his arm, instinctively concerned.
oO Has something happened to Carpenter? Oo
But no, Kirsty was on a leave of absence. Someone had to fill the Chief SecTac’s post. She’d just assumed Raga or another senior officer would step in. Apparently not.
Still barefoot, uniform pants rolled to her shins, she looked anything but regulation appropriate to meet a new CO.
T'Fearne: Understood, Sir. :: processing the sudden command shift :: Not that I don’t appreciate the lift, but this seemed a little unorthodox. I hope nothing is amiss with the Ronin?
Kessler: I am not your typical Security or Tactical officer. I do not like surprises that catch my team off guard. Therefore I plan for those situations by staging real world unannounced training just like this. ::grinning:: And you are just what I am looking for.
Her brow lifted slightly as they moved further into the shuttle.
T'Fearne: You need me for a readiness training drill?
The lieutenant nodded to the pilot, a marine officer at the helm who began moving the shuttle out and away from the rock face and back into a flight pattern over the treetops.
T’Fearne felt suddenly like her quarry was getting away, all her planning and the hunt she had made to the terrorist location was slipping away with every kilometre they flew from the location, but a different suspicion was growing.
Kessler: I have read your file Ensign and I want you as my backup on the Security detail for the Ronin. Not just another Security figure in the shadows and based on your Citations to-date I think you are the best fit for the job I want you to fill.
That pulled her in two directions at once.
If Kirsty had asked, she'd have jumped to it, literally and metaphorically. But this man, this Chief Kessler… was an unknown quantity. She hadn’t even pulled his file to go snooping yet. She hesitated just a little too long.
T'Fearne: Thank you, sir. That’s kind of you to say. ::pause:: Permission to speak freely?
Kessler: You can ask anything you want. I'll answer or I won't but I'm pretty much an open book.
That earned him a nod. That was very much in line with her own stance on giving out personal information. One could ask anything they wanted, didn’t mean she'd answer. People deserved the right to draw boundaries.
A fleeting shadow of something darkened his emotional aura, but she only caught a glimpse of it before it faded. She felt something click like pieces moving on a chessboard. A phantom pain in her collarbone. With a slight head shake she dismissed the random impression.
T'Fearne: I suspect I’ll have plenty of questions later, if you ever decide to speak to me again, Chief. :: dryly ::
T’Fearne glanced quickly at the back of the unfamiliar officer at the helm, then levelled her obsidian gaze at either her new CO or a very sophisticated imposter.
T'Fearne: For now, :: matter-of-factly :: I’d like you to verify your identity and assure me that neither of you are impostors who’ve taken this shuttle by illicit means. Start by confirming the Ronin's status. Is the crew safe? The ship undamaged? I will know if you lie. :: she lied ::
Kessler: Response
She nodded slowly, but didn’t relax. She shifted her weight, beginning a counter clockwise stalk, maintain a loose stance, outside of easy striking range. Not defensive. Not aggressive. Just… ready. Watching the subtle shift of his frame, watching for a tightening of muscle or the precursor of any sudden movement. He smelled like a human and what he said was ringing true. No clear deception. If this was a performance, it was well executed.
T'Fearne: Convincing but not enough. Tell me what brought you to the Ronin?
Kessler: Response
She straitened and held up a hand, palm open, fingers, green stained and spread in a silent gesture of surrender. A thin smile tugged at the edge of her mouth. That would do for now.
T'Fearne: Apologies for the interrogation, Chief. This is a lot to absorb for me and we are in the Alpha Isles. Changelings have infiltrate the ship and impersonate crew before. You plucked me off a cliff, claimed to be my new CO, and I didn’t recognize either of you. :: raising her chin slightly :: I’ll follow your orders, of course. But my trust and loyalty aren’t automatic. The last Chief earned that with actions, not just words. I don’t know anything about you yet. So respectfully... your past? Doesn’t hold great meaning to me. What you do now does.
Kessler: Response
She blinked, caught off guard by how measured his response was. His emotions were justified, but he’d reacted better than she expected. She felt a small wash of embarrassment at having gone in so hard.
Maybe he and Kirsty were cut from similar tritanium hull plating.
T'Fearne: Clear sir. I understand if the position offer is rescinded after subjecting you to that.
Kessler: Response
[Tag, You’re It! / TBC]
===============================
Security Officer
USS Ronin - NCC-34523
R240107T14